I eat when I'm stressed or nervous. Black licorice (the good Australian kind), pistachio gelato, sweet potato fries, Trader Joes dark chocolate with truffle, any kind of ice cream- these are some of my favorites. For the next thirty-three days (dang Labor Day holiday) I am on pins and needles and completely undoing everything I did during my cleanse. I figure I'll just break even. Maybe I'll do a sit up or two for luck and because I can. Yeah right.

Our house sold. In one day. For this I am supremely grateful. Also, our offer on our dream house was accepted. I say dream house, because I have great dreams for it. It needs a lot, like a ton a lot of work. But it is yellow and in the country where we'll eat a lot of peaches. Those are healthy, right? Got to be better than the whole box of Joe-joes I'm working on.

Also, Presidents of the United States makes for great cleaning music. Sliding door tracks, second story porch windows, all those things that never get cleaned unless someone is coming or going.

This is my update for the week.

It is done. This pregnancy is over.

While of course I am sad and disappointed, I feel...peaceful? hopeful?

I am grateful for the way that it happened as it helped to confirm some things for me- leaving no question. I am not crazy. (Well, not always.) I was most definitely pregnant. You always kind of wonder when you opt not to have labs and early ultrasounds. Also, what I experienced when we were at BYU and I got such horrible OB care was, I am almost positive, also a miscarriage. That experience was devastating for me and because I never took a pregnancy test prior to bleeding I was never really sure. I never had the confirmation or the closure that I needed. Now I know.

So, if we were keeping score, things look like this...

Miscarriage at six months of trying.
Five years infertility.
Failed adoption.
Scrunch was adopted :)!! Best. Day. Ever.
Fertility treatments that didn't work. Like zero, zilch affect.
Surprise pregnancy of Porkchop with a little surprise ending. Pumping exclusively for a year. Exclusively pumping for that long is worse than unmedicated labor. But he is worth it and at three years old wants to be a doctor or dentist so as long as I am nice to my DIL, he'll take care of me when I am old.
Bam! Quick turn around and a pregnancy with Juju. Juju is my easy one in every way. Easy to  get here, easier pregnancy, easy baby. She just can't be the youngest or she will be spoiled and ruined by all of us.
Little hiatus while we fulfill what we felt was a call to action and fostered three kids.
Miscarriage at two months of trying.

Well, at least we haven't just been sitting around.

Late Saturday night I received a blessing and I was honestly a little disappointed. I wanted so badly to hear, "You will have a normal pregancy." "This baby will be healthy and strong." Something. But instead I got, "Know that your Father in Heaven is mindful of you and that he loves you and has a plan for you." Aw, crap! I thought. "I bless you to have peace." was repeated what felt like thirty-seven times. And I was like, "Really?  really? Is that the best we can do? Come on!" These were my ungratefully wicked thoughts.

Now I am grateful for the blessing. To be blessed with peace does not mean you are happy with the outcome- only that you are accepting of God's will. It has been my experience that you can feel peace and God's love even during the crappiest of times. I have always felt that there was a plan. His plan is always better than any crappy plan I could come up with- my children are a testament to that. I just wish I had a little more of a heads up as to what it was sometimes (or all the time).

I saw this on Facebook yesterday and I liked it. I don't know if it's doctrinal, but I'd like to believe it is. The last year has heard a lot of "No's" around here so I'm banking on a "Yes!" any day now. (Sell my house. Please sell. Pretty, pretty, pretty please sell my house. Oh, and I'd like some dairy goats for Christmas.)



Oh. And another thing...I have some very kind and thoughtful people in my life who have expressed a desire to do something, to help in some way. I really appreciate you all. The first time someone asked if they could put our names on the prayer roll of the temple was Fran. She was the grandmother of the baby that we never adopted. She wanted us to raise that baby almost as badly as we did and the whole experience was just hard, hard, hard for everybody. It was especially hard for me so when she asked of course I said yes. The week following was a low point emotionally and spiritually, but I felt lifted and peaceful and I know it was because of those praying for me. The second time someone asked if they could pray for me was Nancy. I was about 34/35ish weeks with Porkchop and it just felt too soon to be going into labor with him. She prayed on the phone (which I've written about before) and I carried him to his exact due date. My sister is a faithful temple roll name placer. I don't know if she e-mails them or what, but before she even asks if it is okay it is done. Do not underestimate the power that your prayers for others have in their lives. They are felt. This has been a great lesson for me.

My very last lesson for the day, I promise...the media and our culture like to talk about how teenagers have gone to pot (womp, womp). And how there's no hope for any of us. Future generations are doomed. Blah, blah. Maybe some kids are having it rough, but there are others who have been raised by good parents who are good and kind, and generous, and thoughtful. I can't tell the story without crying but two of my kids in my Sunday School class (who are also brother and sister) asked if they could come and see me. They don't even know what was wrong. They just knew that Hermana Traver was not teaching class unexpectedly and was home. Their dad is in the Bishopric and with John being secretary he knew he could call. Dad drives truck and mom cleans houses so their lives are not glamorous, but they are rock solid good people raising good kids. They stopped by for a few minutes with a giant chunk of cake from her Quinceanera and to visit. While they were here their Dad announced that the kids had something for me and they proceeded to sing a song I'd played for them during a lesson months ago. They were awesome and when I told them so they beamed and said it was the song I taught them. God love them for that! The simplest, most thoughtful thing has been such a boost and I will never forget it. Our efforts as parents to work hard, be kind, be generous blesses our kids. And it in turn blesses others.

Thanks for the happy thoughts, prayers, texts, calls, and messages. I'm fine. Everything is going to be better than okay. It always is.

I did not drop off the face of the planet.

Things have been busy, but I guess everyone says that. I also just haven't felt like blogging. That's just true.

I was just thinking a few weeks ago that this blog was such an outlet for me when I first started it. We were going on years of infertility and had started the adoption process and it just felt so much better to have somewhere to write all the blech down.

Life has changed so much since then...Scrunch, we bought our house, Porkchop, Juju, the little adventure of fostering three kids, all the pets. Isn't it so stupid that I felt like I didn't need this blog anymore when I found out I was pregnant a couple weeks ago? And now I sit on my bed holding still, because if I hold still maybe I will stop bleeding and I won't be miscarrying this baby. Even though I'm sure that I am.

I could have not said anything. Only a handful of people would have known. I would stay as busy as I've always been, gone on to put our house on the market this week, (hopefully) move to our dream house, and it would look like I have a perfect life with my perfect little family (and maybe a llama!). And in so many ways I do. But nobody's life is like that.

I'm not so very different than I was six years ago. Not really. And we're not really that different from each other. Everyone has ups and downs, and goals and disappointments. And it is just the way of things.

It is still nice to have a place to write them all down so I can come back when I need it.

Blech.

Tuesday Nights

Tonight it was Husband's turn to question the crazy nighttime noises heard around these parts once the kids have gone to bed.

He peeked his head up from under the counter where he was installing the dishwasher. "What is that sound? Do you have water running?" 

I'm busy overseeing things from the recliner- bouncing between butcher block installation articles and homeschool lesson planning.

"Uh huh."

"What is it?"

"Homer and Marge are in the shower."

"Oh." 

And he went back to work. 

Homer and Marge are my library ferns. But of course you knew that. It totally makes me smile that he did.

Happy Tin Anniversary tomorrow.

Getting downtown.

What the crap is that beeping sound?

I thought it was the smoke alarm? Maybe our possessed oven?

Oh, wait. It's husband and his Morse code app. In the bathroom. It's kind of driving me batty. But I can't really say anything. I need to be supportive of my husband and his more crazy endeavors. I mean, it's not like he asked me to take the train downtown to the Capitol with the kids in the crazy heat to attend a rally to support Midwifery.

Oh, wait. He's also installing the new microwave. He does not use swears, but I think I can hear him think them. I have nothing to complain about. Keep on beeping on.

This picture is so funny to me because Scrunch is totally frustrated that Porkchop is not getting his Princess Posed Smile down and Porkchop is frustrated for the same reason.

Getting a clear picture of us on a moving train is damned near impossible. Juju's expressions are my favorite.